


In Our Bedroom After the War

by minidumpling



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Far Future, Fluff, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minidumpling/pseuds/minidumpling
Summary: She slips on the jacket, feeling the rough fabric rub against her skin. She can remember when Adora took it off for the last time, when she'd held it close to her chest for a very long time before Catra pulled her to the bed. She can remember when she was young and free and wild and invincible.She's old, now.She's ok with it.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 151





	In Our Bedroom After the War

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick drabble.
> 
> Also want to say thank you to SheRa and Noelle and the crew-ra that put together this amazing show. Probably the best accident that ever happened to me; I was scrolling through ig edits when I found a catradora one and the next day I was hooked on the show. Kept me company for six months and changed my life in more ways than I could possibly count. It's one of those shows that I can never forget, one of those that I'll remember when I'm older and maybe tell my kids about or something.
> 
> So, thank you for giving me something special.

Her body is starting to go. Past it’s prime, it’s starting to give up on her, agonizingly slowly. Her legs can’t carry her as fast as they used to, her arms can’t do what they used to be able to do. Since when did the body decline so fast? When did Catra cross the line from a ball of fire to a dying ember? She’d give anything to feel the energy running through her body again, anything to be able to laugh without holding anything back and leap across bottomless chasms and wrestle with the unknown.

She’d take it, though. She’d take it as long as it meant Adora was by her side. If it meant she could live a day without feeling the pang of guilt and shame that made the fur on the back of her neck stand up, the pang that she tried to keep down for years before it had finally burst out of its floodgates. If it meant she could come home and see Adora waiting, if she could fly into her arms and hold her so tight she’d never leave again, she’d take it.

She’d stay.

The jacket fits her, surprisingly. It still has Adora’s smell on it, even after being packed away in a box for years, after being taken off for the last time and tucked away in some corner. The red fabric’s rough, rubs against her skin as she pulls it on and marvels at how it hasn’t fallen apart after all it has been through. She can remember when Adora took off the jacket for the last time; when she’d slipped it off and held it to her chest for a long time before Catra pulled her to the bed. That was the day the war had ended. The days where she felt like she could run across Etheria and nothing could stop her, like she was a bright star that had endless days ahead of her. Catra’s heart gives a painful throb as she thinks about how much time has passed since those days, how much has happened since the jacket has seen daylight. How much she’s changed since she’d first met Adora back in the Horde.

“Catra?” It’s Adora. She pokes her head into the bedroom, glancing around and sucking in a sharp breath when she sees Catra wearing her jacket.

“Hey, Adora.”

“That’s my.... old jacket,” Adora breathes. “From... from the Horde.”

“Yes.” Catra grins, smiles fondly at the memory. “The one you wouldn’t change out of no matter how hard we tried.”

Adora takes a step into the room. “I could never forget.”

“We were so young, you know?” sighs Catra. Adora catches the tone of her voice and stiffens, waits for Catra to continue. “We could have done anything back then. We were strong and we had each other and our friends and we were invincible.”

“We were young and dumb,” answers Adora. She’s smiling, a small one that’s happy and sad and everything in between. “We were on fire and nothing could stop us.”

“And now we’re old and wise,” Catra mumbles, running her hand along the sleeve of the jacket. “But we’re not invincible anymore.”

Adora sighs. “No. But we have each other and that’s more than enough for me.”

“We had each other back then, too.”

“Yes.”

It’s silent.

“Adora?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss those days. I miss them.” Catra squeezes her eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over but they do anyways, rolling down her face and dripping onto the jacket. “I miss being younger.”

“Hey, hey.” Adora’s warm hand takes Catra’s and she slides behind Catra, wrapping her arms around her body and resting her chin on Catra’s shoulder. She can feel Adora breathing against her back, the steady rise and fall and tickle against her neck. Catra raises her hand to wipe away her tears but Adora does it for her, gently brushing aside the tears and cupping Catra’s cheek, lazily drawing circles along her jaw and making Catra shiver.

“I wish we could do anything again,” Catra says quietly. “Just us two. On a road trip or something.”

Adora hums in agreement. “Remember how we would stay up at night in the Fright Zone? When everyone else was sleeping and it was like three in the morning?”

Catra chuckles. “Yes. And just talk and talk and talk until Lonnie would throw a pillow at us, and then we’d whisper under the covers until it was morning again.”

“And that time Glimmer kissed you on the ship after we snuck past Prime’s blockade?”

“Holy crap, yes.” Catra holds onto Adora’s hand a little tighter, dips her head a little lower to hide the grin on her face. “You looked ridiculous. I thought you were about to explode. ”

“I was.”

“Remember the first time we kissed?”

“The first first time in the Horde or with Prime?” Catra can feel Adora grinning, can perfectly picture the smug smile on her face and she flicks Adora’s hand.

“With Prime, dummy. I don’t think the first first time really meant anything.”

“It did to me,” Adora mumbles. “I felt like I was on fire and I could do anything. I didn’t sleep that night. Just lay awake and replayed it over and over again and I couldn’t sleep because I thought I was going to burst into flame at any second.” Her fingers shift up to tangle with Catra’s hair, running through the strands and twisting her fingers.

Catra’s let it grow out, since the war ended. Let it grow out more and more until it almost looked like her old hairstyle again from before, where it was wild and unyielding to the point she just let it do whatever it pleased. Then she let it grow some more, unable to let herself cut it. Each inch was a testament, proof that she’d made it this far. Each inch was a declaration of how much she’d grown and changed over the years, and sometimes she’d lay in bed and think about what might have been happening when her hair was this long.

She’s older now, and her hair’s really long.

She’s ok with it, though.


End file.
